Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: phil lesh (Page 59 of 105)

In The Lava Lamp Canyons

phil mickey tuxes

Most of us are familiar with (or patrons of) Phil’s new culinary/musical venture, Terrapin Crossroads, but not many are familiar with the fine dining establishment Phil and Mickey partnered on in the ’80’s called Chez Guevara’s.

The name was the first misstep. A, it’s one of those jokes that’s cute the first time and just awful every time thereafter; B, fine dining establishments probably shouldn’t have puns in their names; and C, patrons in the San Francisco area tend to remember how much better Che was at, say, lining suspected homosexuals up against walls and shooting them than at, say, leading the people to a glorious worker’s paradise.

Also, Phil and Mickey both insisted on being Maitre d’ at the same time. “We’ve got two drummers and look how well that works all the time,” they reasoned. To their credit, they were right: it worked exactly as well. Opening night featured three fistfights about where people were going to sit, the last of which spread out to include most of the kitchen staff and spilled out to the parking lot.

Making Billy the chef was also a bad idea, as the only thing Billy knows how to do with knives is throw them at people.

Sweat Band Of Liberty, Of Thee I Sing

phil red white and awful

Once again, and as aways, we find ourselves staring at a photo of Phil the way Nic Cage watched the snuff film in 8 MM, our primitive minds unable to tell the difference between actual horror and that on the screen and activating our adrenal glands and flooding our bodies with dumb, and fight.

try to find the apex of atrocity in this one: you’ll be wrong, unless you have a true Enthusiast’s eye.

It is not the “America, fuck yeah” theme he has going, as if he were invited to a locally-produced pro wrestling show on July fourth. Nor is it the haircut, which looks as if Phil is a suburban dad going through gender-reassignment.

It’s the backup sweatbands.

Show Stopper

band bid you goodnight

Honestly, you two: knock it off. Yes, Keith ate a handful of off-brand hippo tranquilizer and crawled into the piano twenty minutes ago but he has a weird way of sensing things even when he’s comatose.

PLUS Bottom right, third guy in, blue shirt: is that the Phantom of the Opera? What the dick is going on here?

ALSO Mickey is there why?

AND If Garcia doesn’t have a lit Camel in that left hand we can’t see, I’ll blow the Pope in Macy’s window.

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